Redemption
by Catullus16
Summary: A distraught Gabriel is tricked into a contract which sells his soul. He is now a creature of the night working for the devil. How will he deal with his new found life? WARNING: a bit of language, maybe some romance later


**Hey readers, so this isn't really fanfiction but i needed to share it! These charcters are all mine, found somewhere in between a daydream and sleep. Hope you enjoy my story, the next chapter is coming soon.**

**Disclaimer: im not making anything for this story, but everything in here is all me**

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Chapter 1

Gabriel

"Oh God, please somebody help." I yelled at the top of my lungs. My wife's head rested in my lap, her blood spilling onto the rough dirt road. I knew no one would hear, we were on the road in the middle of the night, but the rational part of my brain had been shut off. I was panicking. My daughter lay lifeless on the street beside me; there was nothing I could do for her. A voice whispered in my ear as if its speaker was standing behind me and leaning over my shoulder. The voice purred,

"God won't hear, but I will." I turned around and all I could see was darkness closing in around my tiny sphere of lamplight that came from an oil lamp that was burning inside the overturned carriage. I could make out nothing in the pitch black.

I turned back around and saw the shape of a man standing in front of me just out of the light. He was merely a form in the shadows until he started forward. I could feel the temperature rising and the air felt as if it was being squeezed from my lungs by an unseen hand.

The man was wearing all black clothes that were quite different from my breeches and coat that were fashionable at the moment. He was decked out in what looked like leather pants and a vest made of no known material, which at closer examination it seemed to have faces trying to break free, their silent screams stretching the material. His black eyes glinted and he stroked his vest, inhaling deeply as if it gave him pleasure. I heard the screams of suffering people in the distance and felt the shiver down to my toes. Looking back on this I would realize that he was ahead of our time fashion wise, and what he was wearing would morph into today's punk and goth styles.

He stepped into the circle of light thrown by the street lamp and I was able to see him better. His most striking features were his red hair waxed into a faux-hawk, which of course at the time I didn't know what that was, and the tattoos on his face. They were what appeared to be wings. Resembling bats wings but happened to look sharper and more dangerous. What was surprising was that instead of furling out like that of a bat's, they stemmed from each of his temples and ran over his eyelids to barely touch at the top of his forehead.

I shivered, not only were his clothes odd, but he had tattoos. Only the poor and those unscrupulous pirates had tattoos these days. The man smiled showing slightly pointed teeth and said with a voice that still seemed as if he was standing behind me,

"I can give their lives back, all you have to do is ask." With that a black roll of parchment appeared in his hand along with a feather quill. He took another step towards me and I could feel sweat trickling down my back even though there was a thin layer of ice on everything. "Just sign and you can forget this ever happened." I stood and said skeptically, "you return their lives if I sign, right?"

"Correct;" he replied.

I grabbed the quill from his hand before I lost the nerve to be so close to him. As soon as my hand closed over it I felt a prick in my finger and blood poured down to the end making it slippery and hard to hold. He chuckled saying; "extra insurance, just sign." So I did, signing away what I would realize later was far more then I had bargained for. He moved forward until he was barely a step away from me and ran his fingernail down my cheek, with that I blacked out.

-TIMELAPSE-

When I came around I was slumped in a chair with a crick in my neck. I heard the moaning of sick people whom I thought were in my dream until I opened my eyes and saw that indeed there were, and that I was in a hospital. My wife and daughter were on two beds in the room that I was in. The hospital had obviously been an old house because we had a room to ourselves instead of the customary one room for all. I looked over at the beds and suddenly realized that my family was alive and everything looked like it was going to be ok.

Both of them were asleep so I crept up to the side of my wife's bed and smiled down at her. I brushed the hair away from her face and felt at peace. It was to be only a small respite for a grim faced male nurse walked in. I started to get nervous but then I rationalized that the patient before had been in bad shape.

"What's wrong?" I asked to see if I could comfort him. He paused, cleared his throat and said "um… they are both in comas. That's the blunt truth. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you." He turned as if to walk out but I interrupted by practically yelling;

"Will they recover?" I hadn't quite lost hope yet but my stomach was in knots.

"I don't know." He mumbled and practically ran out.

My heart dropped; even though they were alive they were no where near normal. They could very well die never having woken up. I tried to remember what happened before I blacked out. The last thing I could think of was that man touching my face. I shivered; _did I really believe what he had told me? Did he bring them back to life only to have them in this state? If I did believe that then he was a sly bastard_, I had never made him promise that they would return to normal, only to life.

I went to the adjoining bathroom to wash up and relieve myself. I rubbed my face as I walked in feeling the stubble that had grown. I looked at my face in the small mirror tacked to the wall. I looked haggard and unkempt. I sighed and walked to the chamber pot, it was only as I was unbuttoning my breeches that I saw the backs of my hands. They were covered in tattoos which were tribal in nature resembling flames.

I gasped and started to shake, I never had a tattoo in my life and I didn't remember getting these. I pulled my shirt off thinking that it was just my forearms to find that my entire chest and arms were covered. I frantically twisted around to get a look at my back. It was mostly free except for the continuing of the pattern on my lower back. Then I noticed my shoulders. A pair of wings stretched across them originating from my spine. They were the same pattern as on the man's face from the night before. After taking all of this in, I noticed that the insides of my wrists had separate symbols then that of the rest of my body. They looked like some form of writing but one that I had never come across.

It seemed as if my body was no longer mine I shivered and took my pants off trying to see how much more of me was tampered. I saw that the pattern continued until about mid-thigh and then slowly pulled on my clothing. I only felt numb. I knew this was shock, I had seen it enough back when I was enlisted. Being the youngest son back in England it was the only option that I had; it was also the reason that I left for the new land on the ship called the Mayflower.

I staggered back out into the room and dropped into the chair. After what was probably hours I awoke from my stupor having come to grips with the fact that my whole body had been tattooed without my consent. At least when I wore long sleeves and regular breeches they would be covered. I thanked God that there were none on my face and neck. I spent the remainder of the day pacing the halls and only stopping when I felt the need for food.

-TIMELAPSE-

Later I felt rather than saw the last rays of sunlight disappear beyond the horizon. I looked up out of the window realizing that I was never going to get any sleep. I settled into the chair for a long restless night when my tattoos started to burn like they were on fire. I rushed into the bathroom and tore off my shirt to try and relive the pain. I realized that they were glowing red, though oddly enough they weren't emitting light.

Right about then was when my skin started bubbling, I consequently collapsed onto the floor trying not to scream. All of the sudden I had another awareness, as if I had grown another pair of arms. I stood shakily and turned to face the mirror. I had wings. Through all of the shaking and denial I realized that they looked exactly like my tattoo except larger. I had been through so much these few days that I thought nothing could surprise me, I was wrong.

I allowed my wings to relax and lay limp on my back; every muscle was tense, an after effect of all the pain. They wavered for a moment like a candle flame in the wind and then it appeared as if I was wearing a long black coat that was reminiscent of that man's vest. The coat was open to reveal my sculpted abs with their newly found art. I pulled my wings tighter around me and the coat closed and held seemingly of its own accord.

I shuffled back into the other room and looked down at my wife and sighed. I suddenly felt a pull coming from outside the building accompanied by a sweet cloying smell almost like honey but with something rotten underneath. I ignored it for as long as I could until the pull got so strong that I couldn't resist it anymore. I ran out of the room and found my way out of the hospital by following the sweet smell.

I gained more than one odd look as I ran hell bent for leather out of the front doors. As soon as I gained the shadows of the trees outside, I unfurled my wings instinctively and gave them a try. Starting with a few running steps and a leap into the air. After a few dizzying moments when I felt as if I was falling, I got the hand if it and took off in the direction of the inexplicable pull. I found myself in a small town and landed in a narrow alley letting my wings settle into coat form. I followed the scent into a bar with a wooden sign pronouncing it The Red Ribbon.

I walked around into the front entrance in just enough time to see the source slip out the back with a woman. The woman was obviously not the marrying type, with her corset tied as tight as possible and the neckline that barely covered anything. I followed them out of the back and down another alley much like the one I had landed in. The man said something and the woman laughed leaning into him in response. He abruptly stopped and turned to face her. He then kissed her full on the lips and backed her into a niche in the wall.

He looked up into the sky at the moon and when he returned his gaze to the woman, whose eyes were closed, his eyes were glowing red and his k-9 teeth had elongated into fangs. I stopped in my tracks but then immediately realized that if I didn't act then this monster would kill the woman. He swooped into her neck and was about to bite her when I finally moved yelling, "Stop! Let the woman go."

He poised with his teeth millimeters from her neck and then instead of pulling away he ripped her throat out. She gasped her final breath and collapsed in his arms still bleeding from the gaping hole where her throat had been.

He looked at me and said, "oh how clumsy of me…but you did make me slip." He laughed at this as if he had made some joke, I was disgusted. Right about now I started wishing for a weapon, preferably a sword. Sure guns were good and all, but took so much time to reload that a sword was the definitely the way to go.

Back when I was in the service I was one of the only men to stick with a sword, the majority having opted for rifles. With these thoughts I suddenly felt my hands gripping something. I looked down and saw that indeed I held a sword, actually a katana, which was my preferred weapon. There was a small symbol on the grip so I peered closer to distinguish it. I realized that it was the same wings that were on my back and on that man's face.

The monster was looking at me with the woman's blood still dripping down his chin. I unfurled my wings and used them to propel me into a faster run while simultaneously raising the katana over my right shoulder. I sprinted towards him and just as we met I brought the sword down across my body effectively beheading the thing. The body dissolved into a cloud of smoke that wafted up and then disappeared.

I heard clapping coming from farther down the alley. The red haired man parted himself from the shadows and said, "Bravo, I had high expectations for you. You are quite a natural you know. The last one I had to train for decades before she could do what you just did."

"Last one what?" I asked.

"My assassin of course," he chuckled and melted back into the shadows.

"Wait," I yelled after him, "what happened to her?" a voice floated back to me from a distance saying, "I had to dispose of her, because of her disobedience." All of this was spoken in that disconcerting voice that sounded as if he was standing behind me and whispering in my ear, though I could clearly see him in front of me. It was slightly unnerving, well ok, really scary but I found that I was starting to get used to it.

I pushed off the ground into the air and felt the same pull as before. I landed immediately and stood waiting for the sensation to end. Instead it grew stronger, as before, up till the point where it was unbearable. My feet started to move me forward; I tried to stop but in vain. I didn't want to know what other horrible deed that I was going to have to perform. That monster was one thing, as it was my duty to help that woman, but who knows what else that man would make me do, or kill.

I used my wings to beat backwards halting my motion until they too turned against me. I was carried to the edge of a park where I spotted the source, a little girl. I stopped in my tracks and said, "No way, not happening. She's just a little girl, my daughter's age. No!" with that all my tattoos started to burn, searing my skin, the man's voice sounded in my ear as the pain went on.

He said in a clipped voice that betrayed his anger, "this is only a fraction of what I can and will do if you disobey again," he sighed and continued, "if it makes you feel any better that _little girl _is a shape-shifter and has the ability to change into your greatest weakness. She left Hell without my consent; she _disobeyed _me, and so must be punished." His presence vanished and I stepped towards the little girl to see if what he had said was true.

She turned towards me and was suddenly a woman about my age. She beckoned me with a finger, and though my mind was saying _you have a wife that you love, stop_, my body was moving towards her one step at a time. She put her arms around my neck and inhaled. I felt my very essence, or soul, being sucked out of me. The pain of it jolted me out of the trance so I was able to materialize a knife into my hand, I stabbed her.

She screamed and fell back onto the ground and started to writhe, losing control of her shape. She stretched into humanoid shapes of both genders unable to keep one. I reached for my katana which I found around my waist in a sheath and beheaded her. She too dissolved into smoke. I shuddered; I had just killed two 'people' in one night. Even as a soldier I hadn't done this kind of cold blooded murder.

Wearily I lifted my wings to the sky and somehow turned myself in the direction of the hospital and the chair waiting for me. I flew over the city at its darkest, right before dawn. I was just at the open window as the first rays of light hit the room and I fell into it, my wings disappearing. My senses dulled and I supposed that I was back to normal. I reached around to my back and felt smooth skin just as I expected.

The male nurse rushed in having heard my fall and seeing me on the floor on my hands and knees, cried out. "It's alright;" I reassured him, "I must have been sleepwalking and tripped over something." I flashed a smile; thinking _now is as good a time as any to start sleepwalking. _The nurse hurried off, maybe scared by how many tattoos I had, thinking that I might be a bad person.

Oddly enough it seemed as if I didn't need sleep at the moment but for some semblance of normalcy I settled back into the chair and closed my eyes pretending to sleep. The man's voice sounded in my ear, "you don't need sleep, Gabriel, you are eternally awake." His laugh receded and I sighed reassuring myself by saying out loud, "just a bad dream…all a dream." I dozed on and off, finally deciding to wake up at around 8:00 as my pocket watch told me.

I felt rested and really good even though I could have had only a couple of hours of sleep. I stretched in my chair yawning and feeling great; better than I had in a long time. That was when I remembered last night with a rush of blood in my ears and the pumping of my heart. That reaction lasted only a second when I realized that it was all just a dream brought on by the mysterious appearance of my tattoos. That thought made me feel better so I decided to leave the hospital in search of information.

I smiled at the nurse as I walked out and practically skipped out of the hospital, glad to have a purpose, and sanity. I decided to go down to the docks where there were more superstitious people. I walked around for a while and then decided to go into a bar where there would be the most people more willing to talk. I sat down at one such institution and started talking to the men at the bar.

For hours I kept getting the same responses about where to get the best tattoos and the like. I was getting tired and decided to try another bar, I stood up and cracked my neck stretching my limbs. I walked along the wharf hoping that something would come to me in order to get answers out of the bar keepers.

I knew I was asking broad questions, about mysteriously appearing tattoos and the red haired man, so that people wouldn't get suspicious. I realized that I would have to narrow my search, and that everything kept coming back to the wing symbol. Ok, second try.

I walked to the next bar and sat down next to an old man who looked like a grizzled sailor with tattoos all up and down his wiry arms. I asked him if he knew any significance in the tattoo of wings facing each other. He motioned for me to come closer and then whispered, "I shouldn't be saying this, it's not supposed to be told aloud but…there is a legend about them, they are called the fallen wings. You are not supposed to say it out loud;" he crossed himself at this, "'cause the devil is called by you talking about em. They also stand for his right hand man, a demon that is almost as powerful as the devil himself." After a pregnant pause the man said whispered quickly "the Reaper." Later with the invention of computers I found this web entry:

**Fallen Wings-**structure is bat like but has talons which are not from any known animal. This symbol is usually associated Lucifer (a.k.a. the Devil or Prince of Hell). The symbol with the wing tips touching is Lucifer himself, the opposite with the tips facing away from each other (as in any flying animal) is associated with Lucifer's most trusted man. He is a harbinger of death known simply as 'the Reaper.' Unlike Lucifer the Reaper is elusive and is only directly referred to in one text. He is alluded to in several works and carries many weapons though most commonly a type of sword.

_The Devil, was that who the red haired man really was? Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? Was this real, could it really happen? What was with that 'Reaper' business too?_

The only rational explanation that I could think of was that I had lost it when my wife and daughter were in the accident. Maybe it was all in my head. While that thought was of some comfort to know that it wasn't real it was scarier to think that I had gone crazy. If all this was in my head then perhaps the tattoos were as well. There was one way to find out and that was to ask.

I got up and left the helpful sailor, waving as I walked out the front. I decided to walk to yet another bar, sure this wasn't good for my health seeing as I had to continually be drinking in order to not cause suspicion, but it seemed as if I wasn't drunk yet.

I walked around for a while trying to find a place with someone I would be comfortable talking about tattoos with. I found a man who looked like a pirate with a feathered hat and gold hoop earrings. He was wearing an embroidered vest with nothing else under it and pants that to me spelled out rich pirate.

I sat down next to him and rolled up the sleeves of my white shirt exposing my tattoos. "Nice tattoos mate." I said to strike up the conversation. He looked up at me and I suppose saw a kindred spirit, because he replied; "yar, I like um. You'um got em' as well. Where you'd get yars?" At this I got depressed; my tattoos were real as well, no happy hallucinations for me. "Oh, just some place in a neighboring town, not very noteworthy. You?"

"Well, I got me this un ere;" he said pointing to the wolf running down his forearm; "once I got me the name o' Rabid Wolf. This un o'er here;" he said showing an anchor on his chest, smiling to himself; "I got to show off to me woman, did it me self."

"Really? That's amazing, you really did it yourself?"

"Yup, thanks it took me a while, but you know 'ow these things are, once you got un you can't turn down another." Even to my untrained eye I could tell that his work was high quality, I was sure that he had more hiding under his clothes. I didn't like lying to the man, I actually kind of liked him, but I needed answers and that seemed the best way.

I had some disreputable days myself and had become a good liar, among other things, but I had moved on with my life and come to the new world. So I lied to the man and played the role of lonesome pirate out for some good luck. After getting used to the tattoos they actually started to grow on me and it wasn't too hard for me sound enthusiastic about the subject.

"How many do you have?" I asked, genuinely curious. He chuckled and said, "that ere is between me an my woman, though since I like you I'll tell you that I have the jolly roger on me shoulder. How 'bout you, Slick?" I hesitated not knowing the answer and then told him just that. "I don't really know, I suppose two. This one on my arms is really only one tattoo." I said unbuttoning the top of my shirt to expose my chest, showing him that it was indeed connected. He whistled slowly and looked impressed. I continued by saying, "I also have wings on my back;" I cringed at this thinking that they weren't really tattoos but something more, that is if I believed I was sane.

I finished of the beer that I was drinking which ended my excuse for being there and I left the bar with a heavy heart saying, "Nice to meet you, see you around." I sighed, my life had gone to hell, literally, my family was incapacitated, and I was mentally unstable.

I wandered back to the hospital ending up in my chair next to my wife's bed. "What went wrong? Oh, please honey, wake up." I clutched her hand to hold back the tidal wave that was threatening to sweep me away. Everything that had been accumulating hit me and all my emotions spilled out. I sat there crying over her hand for the rest of the day. Just as the sun was setting I finally fell asleep. I awoke shortly to the sensation of things moving under my skin. It wasn't as bad as the night before, but bad enough to make me fall out of my chair. It took a few seconds for me to realize what was happening but when I did I pulled off my shirt just in time for my wings to spring out of me and not my shirt.

I lay panting on the ground, refusing to get up. I folded my wings around me to get my black coat and curled into the fetal position on the cold floor wishing I could stay there forever. That was not happening because I suddenly heard the man's voice purring in my ear. "Come on Gabriel, you have to get up. There is work to be done." He admonished me like a small child. "Go away Devil;" I spat and continued, "I want nothing to do with you."

"I prefer Lucifer, if you don't mind." He said sharply aided by a slight twinge in my tattoos. He was warning me that he was not to be trifled with. I dragged myself up and grumbled, "Fine, I'm up. Where to?"

"Just out. I will contact you if there are any unrulies out and about."

"Fine, fine" I mumbled and the dragged myself out of the hospital. I couldn't just wander all night, so where to go? I decided that I would go to a bar and have a drink or two while I waited. _Great Gabriel you're spending your days and nights in bars, nice. Gonna be a drunk soon. _

I found myself back at the Red Ribbon, the place where all of this started. I picked a booth towards the back and sat facing out towards the front entrance. I ordered some kind of alcohol and waited. I wasn't long until I felt the pull toward something. I sighed, paid the bill and left following it toward the source. It led me out the back into the same alley as the night before. Apparently this was a hot spot for monsters, or were they demons seeing as they came out of Hell? Whatever they were there was one in the alley again.

I unsheathed my Katana and walked towards the thing keeping to the shadows. When I was almost on I cleared my throat making the thing turn around to face me. Stunned all I could do was stare. It was same 'vamypre' from the night before; I got over my shock enough to sneer "Didn't I kill you already?"

"No;" It said thoughtfully and then continued, "just sent me back, rather unpleasantly I might add. I can always get out again, Hell can't hold someone like me." That made sense, instead of killing them what I was doing was banishing them back to Lucifer. That thought made me feel better, I was the good guy slaying the monsters.

With this justification I started running towards him yelling, "time to go back again." He just smiled and pulled a gun out of his pocket. "Not so fast. I'm prepared this time." He shot at me twice. I dodged the first and used my sword to block the other one heading straight for my heart. The bullet was deflected by my sword and I was struck by the fact that I had just reacted with superhuman speed.

The vamypre had been so sure of his gun that he was stunned and took no effort to send him back. I shook my head as he turned into smoke and led my steps back towards the bar. I sat in the same booth and ordered another drink. I looked around the bar with fresh eyes and realized that the majority of the customers were demons of some sort.

This was a demon bar, _wow you certainly stumbled into a shit hole this time. _I could tell that they were from Hell by the tell tale glint of Hellfire behind their eyes. Humans would be oblivious to this except for the occasional flicker of red in their eyes, but I saw clearly and knew. _Well at least you can keep an eye on things around here. _I noticed that as I looked around to the other 'Hellions,' as I had dubbed them, they all lowered their eyes and looked frightened.

It hit me that I was the most powerful demon, kind of, in this bar, and anywhere else for that matter, excepting Lucifer of course. The waitress came over and I saw her nametag said Tiffany. "Another, sir? I'm new here so I uh…well…excuse me." She rushed off and I could tell that indeed she was from Hell, but was weak and probably intimidated by my power. When she returned I said, "Thank you Tiffany, but cut me off after this one, ok? And the name's Gabriel" She laughed nervously and said "sure."

My nights continued much like this one, me banishing demons and then going for a drink at the Red Ribbon, just as my days were growing more miserable. My family was not waking up and I was living at the hospital. I finally went home to our house three months after the accident. It was a hollow shell of happy memories now stained by blood and heartache. I didn't want to sell the house just in case my family woke up, but I did buy an apartment in town near the docks in the cheap part of town.

I would spend my nights prowling the streets and my mornings in the hospital gleaning just enough time in the afternoon to go back to the apartment and eat maybe get a change of clothes. This went on for about half a year when one day I went to the hospital in the morning to find the usually empty room scurrying with doctors and nurses. I knew this was a bad sign but decided to deceive myself into thinking that one of my family members had woken up.

I asked a passing doctor what was happening and he replied that both my daughter and wife had both died mere minutes before I walked in. Shocked I saw that they were placing white sheets over both. I gave one plaintive cry of no and then fell silent as shock and loss set in. I ran straight to the Red Ribbon and started trying to drink myself into a stupor. The morning staff was there who didn't know me, but they saw that I was in pain and left me alone, though keeping my glass full. I drank all day and when the sun went down I made it into the bathroom in order to not expose my transformation and then went back to drinking. It wasn't helping, I had lost track of the number of drinks that I had ingested, but I was only just beginning to feel a buzz.

I was miserable, my head lying on the table only coming up for yet another swig. Sometime around 9:00 the night shift of workers came in and Tiffany came around to my table. We had gotten to be pretty close friends in the half year that I had been going there. She sat down at my booth in the seat across from me and only said, "When did you get here?"

"I don't know." I moaned and went back to drinking. I looked at my glass and frowned. "Got anything stronger? I've been drinking all day and I don't feel a thing." She got up and looked down at me with pity in her eyes; she could tell that something bad had happened. She didn't ask what happened and I loved her for that, she knew that talking about it would only make it seem more real. I was drowning myself in liquor and it was already almost dawn when I realized that I didn't have any banishing to do that night.

I had been job free, it was almost as if Lucifer, or Luc as I referred to him in public, had taken pity on me and allowed me one night off. _That's right fucker, let me wallow in self pity. _I stumbled off to my apartment around 8:00 still feeling only slight effects of alcohol, more weary than anything. The first thing that I did when I got back was set up to sell the house, and then I took a shower hoping it would make me feel better. I realized that I was going to have to get a day job if I was going to support myself and my drinking habits. We had been wealthy sure, but if I was going to blow money all night I needed some income.

I got a job at some dock warehouse moving inventory to boats, it was an insult to my intelligence, but since I had been half dead ever since my family died it was soothing to fall into the rhythm of mindless labor. I was making good money because I was reckless and didn't mind climbing up to extreme heights; I had no fear of dying. I had nothing to lose if I did and something told me that Luc wasn't going to let death take me so easily.

Years passed and nothing changed; I still went to the Red Ribbon where Tiffany was still working, I still lived in the cheap dockside apartment, and I was still doing the same job. I looked no different and was starting to have the feeling that I was immortal, as was Tiffany (that being her only power). I lived through changes that blew my mind including the city which my small town had turned into.

Computers were invented and telephones were invented and then made mobile. Changes happened all around me but I seemed frozen in time. The only day that was different was the anniversary of my family's death. On that day I always tried to drink my pain away, it never worked but they do say that hope springs eternal. The year was now 2009 I had lived for longer than I had ever conceived but things were about to change.

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**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it and that it inspired you to write something of you own.**


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